It’s not so much that the day is wasted that makes me sad, but rather, the fact that Sunday evening inevitably turns into Monday morning.
So. It’s Sunday night and I didn’t win the mega-lotto jackpot. Again. I guess this means tomorrow is the start of yet another work week. Damn.
Yeah, I’m looking at you, Monday morning…
Monday is rearing its ugly head once again, folks. In response, I thought I would leave you with this small disclaimer. You know, to sort of set the record straight for those of you who might be concerned.
Sunday, Funday. Blech. That’s a lie if I ever heard one. It doesn’t seem to matter how many days there are in a weekend — even a 4-day weekend like we just had — every Sunday there is still this mad dash to get my
shit life together in like 12 hours. I blame Monday.
Even the incomparable Betty White knows…